Weathered walls began to yell
plaster from the ceiling fell
Crumbled walls began to cry
long after the paint was dry
These walls trembled and shook
no more water in the brook
Needing paint and repair
a comb ran through their hair
When your walls begin to shout
you'll know what I'm writing about.
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Comments about this poem (Troubled Walls by Heather burns )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
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